


If the Rumours are True...

by anAUTHor



Series: A Cigarette for Your Thoughts [3]
Category: South Park
Genre: (rumours), Enemies to Aquaintances?, F/M, Implied Non-Con, Implied Sexual Content, No Smut, Oneshot, Romance, She/Her, She/her pronouns, Stand Alone, enemies to lovers?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anAUTHor/pseuds/anAUTHor
Summary: You run away from home.You hide from rumours.And most importantly, you give second chances.{I know it says completed. This is a 4-parter in which each part can stand away from the rest as its own.}©anAUTHore 2020
Relationships: Kenny McCormick/Reader
Series: A Cigarette for Your Thoughts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924333
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	If the Rumours are True...

**Author's Note:**

> Part Three in the "A Cigarette for Your Thoughts?" Series.
> 
> The party at Wendy's was more of a romp than you're used to.
> 
> The aftermath, also, wasn't anything near what you were expecting.
> 
> (CW: This part contains rumours about sex / implied nonconsensual sex with an intoxicated individual)

South Park High, a school just as brutal (if not more) than any other high school peppered across the United States. There were cliques, clubs, boys, girls, and anything else you could imagine roaming the halls, ready to pounce.

You were luckier than most; you didn’t stand out at  _ all _ . Sure, you had a small group of friends equally as normal as you, and sure, you turned in all of your assignments like a “goody-two-shoes”, but you blended in like camouflage in the forest.

At least, you _ did. _

Your life has always been in the process of falling apart. You were used to the constant yelling and belittling of yourself, mostly from your parents. If anything, you’d used school- as hectic as it was- as an escape from all the shit in your day-to-day. You’d walk in, get noticed by no one, and stand in the corner, sit in your chair, get your work done, and leave. That’s how it’s always been, and the silence you’d brought along with you was always welcomed.

Today was different. Hell, last _week_ was different. You weren’t one to go out and party, yet you took up the opportunity nearly as soon as it had fallen into your lap. You also didn’t ask for handouts or sleep in a stranger’s home, but when it was offered to you, you didn’t refuse. How could you? You _needed_ help- Right?

You pushed open the double doors and breathed in the warmth from the heating system. You half-stomped, half-walked inside the building, getting extra snow from your boots before you found your usual waiting place; right around the corner of your class, conveniently in the front of the building just down the hall. You leant against the painted brick walls, trying to get your phone to connect to the school’s wifi before you gave up out of frustration- you understood why only teachers were allowed to connect, but that didn’t mean it didn’t piss you off some when you couldn't listen to music before class.

You took out your earbuds and wrapped the wire around your phone, shoving it into your pocket. You looked up just in time to make very brief eye contact with someone passing in the hall, and they snickered. Your brows furrowed, and you watched them slow down and whisper something to their partner before they pointed a thumb back in your direction. 

_...What? _

What could they possibly be talking about?

You didn’t do anything that would warrant gossip. You scoffed to yourself before a sinister thought crossed your mind: What did you  _ do _ at the party? 

Anxiety built up in your chest as you racked your brain for any clue of something embarrassing you might’ve done. You just drank! You remembered playing beer pong, you remembered being  _ really bad _ at it, but no instance of you completely embarrassing yourself came to mind.

You tapped your foot, waiting for the bell to ring and save you by ushering you and others to class. You wanted nothing more than to surround yourself in papers, work, and the silence that you’d grown to know as a friend, but you couldn’t. You, for the first time in a very long time, didn’t feel safe in the High School.

*** * ***

You sat in your seat- back corner, half-hidden by a structural mistake in the room that was a protruding wall. You leaned your head against your palm, leg bouncing as you tried not to stare at anyone that walked in after you. You heard mumbling and idle talk- it was Monday, and it’d been at least a few days before most people had had contact with their classmates. Greetings floated about before the teacher coughed and began his lesson.

You obediently pulled out a notebook and pencil, scribbling in the margins to distract yourself. You drew bottles and cigarettes, random circles, and a horrible rendition of a person. Before you knew it, class was over, and it was time to get up and leave.

You were the last one out of the room, and for good reason. The halls were crowded with people trying to get both here and there, but there was something else that you couldn’t put your finger on. You bumped elbows with some, and definitely were the subject for a group of laughing girls. Your blank expression didn’t change, but your pulse quickened, as did your pace. When you found a way out, you darted to your next class, ignoring anything and anyone that would possibly try and contact you.

It was like that for most of your day. Head down, dart to the next class. Do your work, turn it in, hide. You wanted nothing more than to be home right now- or at the very least, outside and away from everyone else. 

The period before lunch was the thing you were most looking forward to; Wendy Testaburger sat two seats down from you, and though you didn’t talk much with her, you knew she was at the party. You knew she had answers. She  _ had _ to.

You left your stuff at your seat and waved to Wendy as she walked in. She smiled and waved back, as usual, but didn’t say anything important to you. You didn’t like to speak up when it was so quiet, but this was important.

“Hey, Wendy,” you called her quietly, hoping that she heard you.

She turned her head around and raised her eyebrows, letting you know that she heard you. “Yeah?”

“Uh, I need to talk to you. About the party. Did-” you quieted down some more, now that you knew she could hear you just fine, “did anything happen? Like, anything I should know about?”

She shook her head before she stopped herself, and started to laugh. “Well, actually, there are a few things you might not remember. Nothing bad though! I promise.” Her unfaltering smile calmed you some, but it could only give you so much comfort.

You nodded, waiting as she told you things you already knew. She told you just how much you sucked at beer pong, and how Stan- that was the black-haired boy’s name- made you drink every time you missed instead of every time you made a shot in. She laughed about how drunk you’d gotten, stumbling over and then nearly falling into Bebe when you realized you’d finally scored a point for them.

You nodded, but none of this helped. “So, I just got shitfaced and then went to sleep on your couch? That’s  _ all _ that happened?”

She started to nod, but then stopped herself. “Well, no.”

When she didn’t elaborate, you pressed further. “Well, what? Seriously, Wendy, there are groups of girls I’ve never seen before laughing at me in the hallway. This is important.” You pled with your eyes and she bit her lip, giving in.

“Okay, but you didn’t hear this from me. Bebe didn’t want me to tell you. Girls’ oath, okay?” She stuck out her pinkie for you to take in a pinkie promise, and as childish as you thought it was, you humoured her and did as she asked.

When it was over, she nodded and leaned in, her voice now just a whisper. “Okay, so you already know you were  _ very _ drunk. You had trouble walking up the stairs to go sit down and sober up, so I tried to help you but it wasn’t working out. Kenny- you know him, Stan’s friend who always wears orange?- Yeah, he took you upstairs and took care of you. He has more experience than anyone else in that matter, so it was better for him, you know?”

You blinked. Kenny helped you,  _ again? _ You didn’t think he’d want anything else to do with you after you  _ literally slept on his floor _ , but, as per usual, you were completely wrong in that regard.

“Wait, so Kenny ‘took care of me’? As in, gave me water and stuff, right?” Your intense gaze never once parted from hers, determined to scrounge up every piece of evidence you could on this case.

“Well, yeah. I don’t know exactly what he did, but I know he didn’t hurt you or anything. At least, not really.”

Confusion once again weighed on your eyebrows. “What do you mean, ‘not really’?”

She opened her mouth and then thought better of it, swallowing her words and looking to the side, as if she were being watched.

“Well, you know him. You know what he does.”

You shook your head. “ _ No, _ I don’t  _ know _ Kenny.  _ You _ know him, and all of Cartman’s friends. I’ve only  _ heard _ of him, and until the party, I haven’t really had anything to do with them!”

She seemed taken aback by your sudden outburst. “Jesus, (Y/n), you know what I meant. He’s a player. You know what they do- they sleep with girls and brag about it.”

Your stomach dropped and you could feel the butterflies of anxiety flutter through every part of you. “But he  _ didn’t _ sleep with me.”

Wendy shrugged. “He didn’t have to. All he had to do was say he did.”

Your face scrunched up and you plopped back into your chair completely, Wendy turning back to face the front of the room. You had never been so angry, nor felt so used. You’d also never felt so forced out in the open.

_ Fuck it,  _ you thought, endorsing your impulses for once,  _ if he’s gonna push me out there, I might as well be out there. _

*** * ***

The lunch bell rang and you practically leaped from your seat, fueled by anger and adrenaline. Maybe you were feeling excitement, too, but you couldn’t tell with the rising anxiety that accompanied your other feelings.

You walked past the lunch line and sat your bag down at your usual table, reserving your seat before you spun on your heel and searched for that orange wearing fucker. He was easy to spot, especially considering your town was small and the school even smaller. You stormed toward him, your feet flying across the cafeteria tile to meet him before he sat down.

Cartman was the first to notice you coming at them, his confused expression turning to one of annoyance before the others noticed you as well. You didn’t give anyone a chance to speak, however, before you opened your mouth and spat pure venom at your perpetrator. 

“What the  _ fuck _ , McCormick?”

You grabbed his shoulder to make him look at you, but he must’ve sensed you coming because he was already staring you dead in the eye. He had one eyebrow raised, a dumb look on his face like he did nothing wrong at all.

“Hey, who the fuck are you calling McCormick?” Annoyance laced his words.

“You! You can’t just go around telling everyone we had sex! What kind of douchebag does that?”

Cartman snorted opposite you and Kenny looked at him for a brief moment before he turned his attention back on you. “Look, can we talk about this later? I-”

“ _ No. _ ” You interrupted him, tired of hearing his voice. Maybe he was right- everyone knows his name, everyone knows his game; everyone but  _ you _ , apparently. “We didn’t sleep together. I’ve talked to you a total of two-  _ two!- _ times, and you tell everyone we fucked? There’s gotta be something wrong with you in your head. Does your mom not give you enough attention?”

You could tell you struck a nerve with him, because his face got red and he clenched his fists under the table. At this point, the surrounding tables got quiet. No one was laughing now- just wide-eyed stares and confused glances from one friend to the other.

“Dude, don’t talk about his mom.” The ginger spoke up, his tone about as serious as the air in the room. Kenny didn’t even comment on his friend trying to back him- instead, he clenched his jaw to keep from saying something  _ incredibly _ stupid.

“Maybe he should’ve thought about that before he spread rumours about me! Kenny-” you softened, suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion.  _ Fuck, not now,  _ please, you thought, damning your inner waterworks. “you let me stay at your  _ house _ when my mom kicked me out. I don’t even know you, and you put me to bed so that no one else would take advantage of me when I was intoxicated! And- and now, come to find out, all you wanted to do was tell everyone you tricked another girl into giving you some pussy? What kind of fucked up person does that?”

Tears pricked at your eyes and you finally looked away from him. You sniffed, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands before anyone else could comment on them.

You were too late, though. Cartman piped up, as usual; “Fuck, no one cares, lady. So, you slept with Kenny, big deal. Don’t think you’ll get famous for it or anything. Jesus.”

You scoffed, shaking your head before muttering to Kenny, but mostly to yourself. “I thought you’d be better than this. I just- fuck, nevermind. Fuck you.”

You walked away, leaving him to do whatever he did while you had your back turned to him. You didn’t know, nor did you really care. You picked up your pack and rushed to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall and crying as much as your body was able to. It wasn’t fair-  _ life _ wasn’t fair. You knew that, but  _ God _ you’d thought Kenny was a good guy. You thought maybe that deep down, he was just misunderstood. 

And your heart broke, because it was so obvious that you’d thought wrong.


End file.
